Winter Snow
by FrozenInsanity
Summary: Anna's mind-reading abilities have been developing and are now linking her to Mikoto's dreams. The Red King is conflicted, he knows Anna is hurting... Yet cannot move himself to do something. Anna soon begins to change at an alarming rate and all the hurt she suffered through has come to the surface. How much strain and terror can a young girl be put through before she cracks? T-M.
1. Safety

**A/N: **to all you beauties out there, I have decided to give you something more to read! It's AnnaXMikoto, because I absolutely adore them together. I somehow like the idea of Mikoto being a lolicon, and then I decide it's a bit odd. So... Anna will be older. A tab bit, anyway. More chapters later on will be rated M, but a fair warning will be given beforehand. So, enjoy!

**P.S**: I really do apologize for any OOC-ness! Gomen! But I will be basing all of their characters off of K – Memory of Red. Also, disclaimer! All characters belong to **GoRa**/**GoHands** unless I say otherwise.

Chapter One – Safety.

During the festive time of the month that was Christmas, or more specifically, December, the activity in Japan was bustling, suffocating. Christmas was still ages away, but already children were going wild, counting down the hours and gazing excitedly into shop windows whilst mothers ushered them away hurriedly, anxious to complete their shopping early. But slowly, surely, the crowd began to part like the Red Sea, loud whispers and gasps emanating from the eeling, riled crowd as two figures passed through. A tall man that easily surpassed six foot, and a tiny, doll-like girl. The man's hair was a deep crimson colour, extending from his head like fire flames licking against the air and his eyes were narrow and cold but golden, like the polished face of a coin. His body was lithe, and the muscles that worked like wires were evident beneath his clothing, moving with each step he made. He was clad in a white shirt as well as a heavy black jacket, and dark jeans, black boots on his feet. With each step, a soft tinkling sound resonated through the air as his adornments clinked against one another. 'Yakuza' was a word that weaved its way through the crowd, to which the crimson-haired man promptly ignored. It was true, but they didn't need to be so obvious about it.

While mostly women's infatuated stares were directed towards the man, the majority of the males standing in the crowd were pasted to the little girl following in close pursuit to the tall man. Her body was of a petite build, slender and willowy and she barely reached the man's waist. Her hair was of a bright colour, almost appearing white in the cool air, and it cascaded to her lower back in straight, even locks. Her eyes were wide and held such purity, but were tainted a soft red colour, tinted with lower shades of grey and her lashes were far too long and thick, deeply contrasting with the lovely white of her skin. The little girl dressed in the Gothic-Lolita fashion, red and black dominating the majority of her clothing save her white stockings. She wore no jewellery apart from a ribbon and hat tied into her hair. With each step and her expressionless, sweetly-rounded face, she could have been a life-size doll.

The pair seemed odd together – a complete hardcore man who looked as though he wouldn't hesitate to strangle someone, and an innocent doll by his side? A sight for sore eyes if there ever was one. Yet they suited each other somehow, like a sin standing beside righteousness. Both radiated an aura of sorts that made the crowd shiver and disperse like a whisp of smoke. Both man and girl took no notice. It was a common occurrence. As they walked, the girl clinging to the man's jacket tugged on its end once, and gazed up expectantly. He looked down instantly to show he was listening, or alert to any movement she would make. She was not a mute, but not a big conversationalist either, something that linked into their bond, too.

"Mikoto-san, can we go to that one?" asked Anna, her tone resembling her vision – monochromatic. Black and white, no high or depressed tones taking to her sweet voice. Simply neutral. Mikoto's golden eyes trailed along the hand she held out, and glanced upon yet another boutique. He didn't sigh though he was sorely tempted to. It was not often he went shopping, no less clothes shopping, but he went with Anna every year near to Christmas and bought her whatever she liked; which was not a problem, because Anna was not a selfish child, nor was she greedy, thus did not ask for much and was easily pleased. Without a word or even notion that he'd heard her, he began walking. His left hand slipped out of his pocket, and Anna clasped hers in it. Instantaneously, his fingers slowly began to stroke hers.

This was almost ritual. She would hold onto his hand, his fingers, calloused as they were, would gently brush over her knuckles before settling and clasping his fingers through hers. It was comforting to them both, really, though neither ever said so. They did not need to.

"Good evening! Welcome! Would you like assistance?" came the shrill, overly-happy but obviously strained greeting. A woman that must have been well into her thirties came bouncing over, her gaze instantly fixated on Mikoto. She looked as though she was desperately trying to dress younger than she was, yet he had a feeling it didn't do her much justice. Mikoto blinked, his facial expression never changing but inside he was snarling. Women in these boutiques were so obnoxious, and the choking odor that emitted from them was enough to drive anyone away. Instead, Mikoto glanced down to find Anna's gaze already settled on him, and he released her hand. She nodded as he went to sit on one of the plush velvet seats that were often just inside the door.

And Anna was left to the hands of this woman. The little girl did not mind, as they usually did know what they were doing. "Ah, sweetie, is that your daddy?" asked the woman, her face contorting into one of confusion, though her smile remained plastered in place. Botox, Anna thought immediately. "No." Was her curt reply. Instead of making conversation, she began to glance around the store. It was bright and very... _Pink_. But to the back where the lighting dimmed slightly, she could see something she thought she'd like. The woman nodded and sniffed, obviously a bit disheartened. "Alright, dear! See anything you like?"

Ten minutes later, Anna was standing in the expensively-furnished dressing room, basked in the illuminating glow of the golden light overhead. Replacing her usual attire was another Gothic-Lolita dress, only this one was all black. It came down in a rounded neck-like, and the sleeves puffed out at her shoulders. The bodice of this dress had been pulled tight as it was a corset, the black ribbon tied into a neat bow, curving in at her waist. Ruffling out from her hips in a cascade of lace and layers were multiple gossamer skirts, creating a cup-cake like effect. Two black roses clipped the silk of the bodice up from the skirts. On her legs, Anna wore gossamer-black stockings with lace on the hemming. She removed her hat, and pushed back the curtain, earning a startled yet awe-struck gasp from the woman who had tended to her. "Oh, dear! You look gorgeous! Like a little doll! Hold on a moment," said the woman, almost breathless, and Anna did; standing deathly still, eyes transfixed on the gap out into the main body of the shop.

"...Absolutely beautiful, you should be proud."

Seconds later, the woman came back with Mikoto behind her. Anna blinked, her lashes creating inky crescents on her cheeks before fanning back out to frame her eyes. She felt a soft blush colour onto her cheeks as Mikoto's gaze settled on her. He barely inclined her head, and Anna twirled on her heel, the skirts lifting from her legs and splaying out around her only to rest against her again as she halted. "Fabulous," the woman sniffed. "Absolutely fabulous." Mikoto only grunted in response to the woman's awing.

"You like that one?" he simply asked, his tone lazy and relaxed. It was one of those drawling voices that could melt someone at the knees – but it was also the voice of a predator aroused from a slumber, sussing out its reason for awakening. He never showed irritation with _Anna_, though she could feel it brewing inside of him now – mainly for having to endure the woman's fawning for more than two minutes. A smile broke onto Anna's lips momentarily. "Yes, Mikoto-san."

Mikoto's towering form then left the room, and turned out of the room once again. "Dear... He's quite _scary_, isn't he?" joked the shop assistant, but Anna was unfazed. She may be eleven, but she wasn't an idiot, nor should she be spoken to like a child. Her intellectual abilities were far more advanced than for her age group, and she was a lot more aware of her surroundings than one would think. Yet she simply nodded her head once, then returning to her dressing room to strip off. True, Mikoto could be quite scary, but she had never been afraid of him. Everything Anna _was_ had been entrusted to Mikoto, and that was that. Need she be afraid of him? There was no logical reason as to why, besides the fact he was a rather violent King possessing powers one could only dream to have. But no fear registered with Anna. She saw him. And his red was prettiest, after all.

As she finished dressing, she emerged from behind the curtain again, holding the dress and stockings on their individual hangers, and glanced up at the shop assistant. "Good to go?" asked the woman, leading Anna back to the main body of the shop. Mikoto was already waiting at the counter, looking more harassed and exhausted with each word that left the cashier's mouth. The cashier couldn't have been older than twenty two, and she was gazing with a fierce intensity at the Red King, her elbows as well as her bosom propped up onto the counter whilst her head lay in her palms. She was quite attractive with long, raven-black hair and wide blue eyes, but apparently Mikoto didn't think so. Anna silently went to him, and he lifted the dress from her hands, placing it on the counter.

"Oh my gosh, is this your little sister? You look nothing alike! She's _so __cute_! How old are you, sweetie?" Asked the girl as she bent over the counter, disinterested in pricing and accepting the money for the dress. Instead, the woman who'd been helping Anna did the cashier's job, placing the dress and stockings into a bag with the boutique's logo on each side. "That'll be 8,000 yen, please." While Mikoto paid – probably itching for a cigarette with the intensity he was handing the money over with – the raven-haired girl was patting and prodding Anna's silken hair, 'ooh'-ing and 'aah'-ing at it, something Anna found extremely uncomfortable. Not just anyone could touch her hair. Suddenly, the bag was dropped in front of her face, and Anna's small hands clasped around its handles. Mikoto's large, faintly tanned hand planted itself firmly against Anna's back, ushering her from the store. The women hollered their goodbyes enthusiastically, but the brooding, silent pair did not reply. As soon as they had left the warmth of the shop, the chilling air bit into Anna's skin, cooling into her face. Mikoto slipped a cigarette from his pocket and lit it, inhaling a long pull before releasing it and watching it mist out into the air before him. Glancing down to Anna, he nodded, and she juggled the bag into her left hand, clasping to Mikoto's with her right.

And again, they strode down the street, side-by-side, silent yet content. Snow began to fall in perfect unison, creating a diagonal descend onto the concrete below their feet. Anna tilted her face upwards, and watched as the white flakes drifted down in swirling patterns from the grey sky above. It was getting darker – she could see by the way the sky was beginning to blacken in some parts whilst remaining a light, frosty grey overhead, the inky darkness creeping in from the horizon.

The brat never ceased to fascinate him. Even now, as she watched the snow fall, the look of _wisdom _lurking in her eyes was enough to remind him how fast she was growing. Plus, being a unique kind of Strain, she held that kind of... Extra status. Yet despite her age – no matter how young or old, anyone would be accepted into Homra, into the Red clan as long as they were worthy of receiving such a title. And he had seen so much potential in this little girl, perhaps as much as Tatara Totsuka had seen in her. He had come to care for her, treasure her even. Though of course, he need never discuss it with her – Anna probably knew it herself. And her attachment to him simply spoke for itself. Mikoto let out another breath of smoke, glancing towards Homra's bar. Light flooded from the windows, indicating Izumo was still running – and apparently, so were his customers. Close to Christmas? He just _had _to see who was in here at this hour. Anna tugged on his hand, and he glanced down. "What?"

"M-Mikoto-s-sa-an..." said the little loli through chattering teeth. Mikoto's eyes widened slightly, and then narrowed. Instantly, his aura flared, and the red wave of heat washed over his little loli, chasing away any chill that had worked its way past her clothing. Wait – _his_? Mikoto's eyes blinked, and he frowned very slightly. But without hesitancy, he led Anna up the steps and opened the doors to the bar, closing them as soon as they'd both entered in. They were greeted by a chortle of drunken (and sober) roars, that of which followed with a bout of laughter. There was a vibe of good energy buzzing through the lounge, and Izumo didn't even look stressed. For once.

Anna turned and bowed to Mikoto, thanking him for the shopping trip. To show he didn't mind, he placed his hand on top of her head and ruffled her silvery locks. She shot him a quick and very rare smile, before going towards the bar and sitting up onto a vacant stool. "Ah, the lovely lady returns!" grinned Izumo, twirling towards Anna with a rag in hand. "What did Mikoto-san buy you this year, Anna-chan?" And in reply, Anna removed the dress from the bag, holding it out so that the blonde-haired barman could see it in full. He smiled, but it was a much more meaningful one. He leaned across to plant a kiss on her cheek, before nodding with a smile to Mikoto who was already retreating up the stairs, probably to escape the drunken chatter for the evening. The little silvery-haired girl placed the dress back into the bag. "The woman in the shop smelled too strongly of perfume. And I think she liked Mikoto-san."

That earned a full, hearty laugh from Izumo.

"He is a real hit with the ladies. He just doesn't know it," chuckled Izumo, wiping a tear of mirth from his eye. "Yata-chan should be over soon to help me clean up. How about you go up and have a bath and I'll cook something. I bet it was cold today."

Anna nodded, and took her bag with her as she slipped off of her barstool to pop up along the stairs. First she went to her room, which was on the first right off of the landing. Opening the door, she flicked on the over-head light and placed her bag down by the door. Her room was quite plain but pretty – all dark wood and lavish silk. It was girly in its own way, but not really what one would expect from an eleven-year-old girl. She liked it that way, though. Anna wasted no time in gathering clothes to change into, and leaving her room once again, flicking off the switch before closing the door. She retreated further along the corridor to the last door. She did not knock, but rather opened the door and stepped in, closing it behind her.

Mikoto lay on the bed, fully clothed with the exception of his boots – which lay sad and lonely in the center of the hardwood floor – with an arm thrown over his eyes. He didn't even look up as Anna entered, rather began to breathe normally again to assure her he was not sleeping. "Mikoto-san, could you run a bath for me, please?" she asked quietly, her wide, nearly translucent eyes awaiting a physical response from him. Slowly, but in a way that held so much grace, the King lifted himself from his bed and stripped off his jacket, throwing it across the back of a chair that stood in front of an abandoned desk.

"Come on."

He went to the bathroom located the left side of his room, and opened the door. She stood uncertainly a moment, and gazed around Mikoto's room. It was familiar, and more homely to her than her own room, if she was entirely honest. It was always warm in here, and best of all, it had Mikoto's red. That was always prettiest, more pretty than anything she had in _her_ room. The sound of water running consciously made Anna go to the bathroom. It was big enough, and tiled in cream and gold, soft browns in the odd decorating center tile of every four. Mikoto was bent over the bath, adding foaming bubbles to the water. He knew when to turn off the tap, too, leaving it just the way Anna preferred it. He did not turn around as Anna began to strip off her clothing, nor did he throw her naked body a second glance as she tested the water with a toe before climbing in. The water lapped softly just above her hips, the bubbles creating a soothing almost melodic relaxation to haze across Anna's ever-active mind.

"Hand me the shampoo," said Mikoto as he picked up the shower head, and turned it on at the lowest setting, allowing the soft water to gently glide along Anna's glittery, silken locks. Tatara had always washed Anna's hair, but... When Tatara died, Mikoto had to assume the position of Anna's bath companion. Not something he'd been pleased with at first – Izumo was more the fatherly-type – but had grown tolerant of it eventually. Anna ceremoniously took in hand the unbranded store shampoo that scented of roses and handed it to him. She turned away from him then, allowing her back to face him as he gently began to lather the sweet-smelling shampoo into her hair. His fingers never tangled in any knots, but if they did, he'd gently pull until it was gone. And Anna never once complained.

Not a pip was heard from her during bath-time, mainly because it was so soothing... Numbing, even. She was caught in the undertow of the water's heat, and Mikoto's large yet gentle hands running continuously through her hair, massaging her scalp and just the intoxicating scent as it filled her nostrils. It had a calming effect, and she often wished bath-time never had to end. That it could just to on forever. But after about half-an-hour, Mikoto's hands dipped into the water, creating a sudden burst of new bubbles, and then water from the shower head began to spill onto her silken tendrils, washing the thickly-lathered product from her hair, leaving it gleaming and shining. After he'd thoroughly rinsed her hair, and leaned across for the body-cloth and bath gel that lay on the tub's side. He squirted some of the gel onto the cloth, and lathered it in the water.

Anna turned and faced him then as he began to wipe her skin clean. With each stroke of his hand, Anna felt herself slip into the delirious state again, only to come alive at the small splashing sounds that would resonate through the steamy air every once in a while. Only, the bathwater could not and would not stay hot for long, forcing Anna to rinse every sud from her body, and get out. Mikoto assisted her in silence throughout, handing her a towel to dry her hair with while he towel dried her body off. He did it with slow, deliberate movements. Almost like she was the personification of fragility, and one wrong movement and she'd shatter to pieces in front of him. Of course that was not true, but he continued with it that way.

Only recently she'd begun to wonder why. Why did he bath her and wash her hair? Why did he take such care of her? Why did he allow their bond and link undisturbed? Why did he still allow her to sleep with him at night? She would never ask him these questions, though. She couldn't. Anna would always fear the answers to follow. She didn't know why, but that was her initial reaction when each of these questions came to drift along her train of thought. And so she forever remained the expressionless child-like doll that hardly ever uttered a word. She preferred it that way, though. Apparently, so did Mikoto.

"Comb out your hair and dress."

This was a routine she knew off by heart. Mikoto took the towel from her, and the one she'd wrapped her hair in, as well as the clothing she'd discarded and exited the bathroom then bedroom. He would go downstairs while she dressed – he'd tell Izumo to cook something for them to eat while he'd collapse on the couch, and she combed out her hair until it was partially dry. And then she went downstairs, too, only to see Yata and Eric already delving deep into another Chihuahua argument (with Eric holding the advantage, insulting poor Yatagarasu in English). Mikoto seemed to be tolerating it while he watched TV, and Izumo was being bothered by it, but he wouldn't say something until his bar was damaged. That was how it usually went. Anna descended from the staircase, and was instantly enveloped in a hug by Yata.

"Anna-chan! Princess!" said the chestnut-haired teen, picking the loli up and swinging her around and setting her down again, his face full of delight as his eyes fixated on hers. Anna lay a hand on his cheek and smiled softly. Outside of Tatara, Mikoto, and Izumo, Yata was her favourite. "Hi, Yata-chan."

Eric wasted no time in knocking Yata out of the way, though, leaning onto one knee as he took up Anna's hand and planting a soft kiss onto her knuckles. "Good evening, Anna-hime," he teased like he often did, and Anna couldn't help but giggle, which was so odd. But the 'hime' added to her name always felt like it was something she should laugh at.

From the couch where Mikoto was firmly indenting the print of his backside into, he observed that. Of course the other members of Homra were friendly with Anna, even affectionate, but never was Mikoto glad to see it. The only resemblance of the feeling he was overwhelmed by when he saw such things was when a child had its favourite toy picked up by another child. Of course, if he _had _been a child, he would have gone over and punched Eric in the face already. But he couldn't, and it was a silly thing to start a brawl over. Eric was like a brother to him – they all were – therefore he didn't see point in it. Yet, still, that childish, possessive part of him growled. It never stopped. Softly, he sighed, and placed a palm to his forehead. The wafting scent of Izumo's cooking tickled at his nose, and his stomach whined incessantly at him. Mikoto simply lay back to his original position, and refused to watch anymore affectionate ongoings Yata and Eric had with the princess, his moody, arrogant expression slipping into place.

"Food's ready!" called Izumo's cheerful, peppy voice from the kitchen as he emerged with four plates. He expertly set them out onto the bar's surface, then glanced up with a triumphant expression planted onto his features. Yata began to roar with laughter then as he saw Izumo's face fall upon the recognition that Eric had also decided to join them.

"Suck it, bitch!" snorted Yata, plopping himself onto one of the barstools and hastily digging into the seasoned rice and Miso soup Izumo had prepared. Eric shot a filthy look to Yata then, and assisted Anna onto her seat where she began to eat too, uttering a quiet thank you to Izumo before picking up her utensils. "It's alright, Izumo-kun," said Eric with a reassuring smile. "I was just about to head out anyway. See you guys tomorrow!" he called as he went to the bar's door and opened it up, walking out and closing it behind him. Mikoto then rose from his seat, and joined his clansmen at the bar. Izumo didn't bother to sit, rather stood behind the bar and picked up his plate there.

"So, Anna, did you have a good day?" inquired Izumo, breaking the silence (well, it _was_ silent except for Yata's obnoxiously loud noises of appreciation).

The silver-haired girl nodded, eyes seeking out the red that sat beside her. Such a pretty red. "Yes. Mikoto-san was very good to me," she stated in her quiet voice.

Izumo nodded and observed Anna then. Her voice was so similar to Mikoto's. Obviously it had a feminine ring to it, and it was a few octaves higher, but it held that same disinterested tone, one that was always true to her mood. Even now, Izumo couldn't tell if she were happy or not if he could not see her. Of course, her voice could hold emotions – she just did not allow it to. Wise decision, he sighed internally to himself. Mikoto's golden eyes rested on Izumo's then, and the barman smiled at his long-term friend. The King simply rose his eyebrows a bit, looked down and returned to his meal. Yata had polished off his by now, and was groaning loudly. The skater slipped from his stool and proceeded to whine on the ground, huddled into a ball.

Anna's eyes fell to Yata's form, and she rose her eyebrows, as did Mikoto's. "That's what you get for eating like a Chihuahua," stated Mikoto bluntly, and in an instant, Yata was on his feet, his jaw clenched in such a comical manner, it took sole and steady concentration for Izumo to swallow his food correctly. "What?!" Yata then launched off on a rant about that "stupid son-of-a-bitch Eric", and how he was "not a god-damned Chihuahua". All of which no one really paid attention to. Yet, still, Yata's behaviour made the meal more enjoyable, his noise filling the atmosphere, changing it to one of light humor, despite Mikoto's constant scowl. Anna, whilst finishing the last of her Miso soup, glanced up at the King through her impossibly long lashes. Her crimson hues simply saw his red, his pretty red, and she smiled to herself. If only he could see it, too.

"Goodnight, Yata," called Izumo as he began to gather up the dishes. Yata waved at them, a smile on his lips. "See you tomorrow!" and he left, leaving the trio alone. Mikoto let out a long sigh, slipping a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it with an almost impatient gesture. Izumo shot him a long contemplating look, his eyes shining behind his glasses. "Any more news from Scepter 4?"

Mikoto's darkened amber orbs shot up to meet Izumo's, and for a moment he said nothing. Running a hand through his fiery hair, he shook his head. "No. I assume there won't be for a few weeks, at least."

Anna wondered what they were speaking of. Scepter 4 wanted a meeting? Well, that wasn't an odd request. They often wanted to meet with Mikoto, though never explained why. She glanced up at both men, the whites of her eyes tinged a slight red as she yawned. She then proceeded to rub at her eyes, to which Izumo shot her a hard stare. "Time for bed," said the barman with a slight sigh as he whisked the dishes off of the polished bar's surface, and went to the kitchen with him. "I'll head off soon, then I'll lock up."

Mikoto sighed, and tapped his cigarette in the ashtray. Gently, he ushered Anna from her perch on the barstool and she followed him obediently up the stairs, uttering a soft goodnight to a distracted Izumo. He smiled but did not wave, considering he was elbow-deep in sudsy water and hated to get the water everywhere. Their synchronized footsteps tapped up the shadowed staircase, a steady, rhythmic beat sounding to their ears. "Mikoto-san..." began Anna in her quiet voice, gaining his immediate attention, his lingering gaze traveling down along her form.

"What is it?"

"My head hurts," muttered Anna.

The King's face softened into a mildly startled expression. It wasn't often his Princess complained, even less so when she was in pain. She was an entirely selfless little girl, and only ever spoke up when it was necessary. Mikoto simply nodded, and led the way to his room. It was already dark, the only light entering from the emanating silvery stars, illuminating the shadows in glittery strands. He closed the door when they were both inside and she followed him to the relatively big bed. "You're probably coming down with a cold." Mikoto's voice still had its usual nonchalant drawl, but there was something of sympathy in it as he removed his shirt and pulled on a plain black tank shirt as a replacement. He flopped down in a lazy manner onto the bed and lay down, watching as Anna hopped onto the mattress and settled herself in beside him.

An arm went around her, pulling her closer. Her scent enveloped him, and she sighed in content. He let his warm aura flare slightly, chasing away the chill in the room and let it wrap around both of them in a gentle caress. Anna curled up, resting her head on his arm and his body turned onto his side so that he could hold her – as he always did. She was almost like a teddy, something to clutch as though to ward against the nightmares that always followed him into a deep, dark slumber. He hated nightmares, really and truly. Not because they were ghosts of the past, creating a black, clutching wave of inner turmoil that curled in him like a keening cat, more so because it brought out a demon inside of him – a demon that Anna could see through their link. He did not share his dreams with her on purpose, but because she was a powerful Strain already linked closely to him, she witnessed the same things he did. Which terrified her, he knew. Mikoto had long become accustomed to their shaking effects and thought nothing of them, really. But Anna... They tainted her innocence, and he was almost reluctant to let her sleep with him as of late.

But every morning, when they would awaken, he would hear nothing of the terror she'd seen in her sleep. She said nothing. But her hazy, crimson hues would turn on him almost in fear, but then she would struggle from the fog of sleep, and would see him and relax.

Still, it killed him to know she was bottling it up. It killed him to know she didn't mind. It killed him to know she tolerated it because she did not want to sleep alone. And he could do nothing about it. To not have her at his side before slumbering... Mikoto couldn't really imagine what that would be like. Her soft breaths lulled him to sleep, rather than the unbearably loud silence he witnessed when alone. He made a grunting sound to alert himself of the conflict he was creating inside himself intentionally. "Mikoto?" came Anna's soft, sleep-ridden voice, and he froze. His darkened amber hues then rested on her half-lidded crimson ones, and he blinked as if to ask what she wanted.

"It's alright, Mikoto-san."

And in those simple, seemingly-innocent words, Mikoto's sense of self was suddenly lost. The ferocious lion in him sprang to its haunches, and let out a mighty roar of sheer rage. Rage at this little girl's passiveness, at her _acceptance_. Alright? How could it be alright? His eyes widened and in the dark, they flashed a crimson to show his annoyance, his anger even. It was not alright! Not alright for her to feel the same constant disruption he felt every single god-damned day! Why would she even think that? Consider that statement correct, even for a moment? The lion in him let out another displeased growl, but its anger was subdued to hear Anna's deep, even breaths. She was asleep.

Mikoto begrudgingly lay his eyes on Anna's face once again. She seemed so peaceful, not yet suffering through the torment she was inevitable to encounter later. Her thick, black lashes rested like inky crescents on her cheeks, and her rose-bud pink lips were slightly open. _She's going to beautiful when she grows up_, thought Mikoto suddenly. She would be, he could feel it. That child-like innocence would be lost, and she'd be a woman. A real woman. And it was something he almost feared, because she would no longer hold to his hand nor his jacket, or would she ask frivolous things of him – like to go on a date, or read to her, or watch silly TV programmes with her. Dwelling on that, he slowly, slowly drifted off into a slumber of his own, his body curled in around Anna's.

**A/N: **... Hm. Why do I have the feeling that finished off weakly? Argh. Anyway, it would be much appreciated if you would review, please! Much love!


	2. Nightmares

**A/N: **So I noticed how I kind of bunch paragraphs together into a clump, and I know that's not exactly pleasant to read through. I'll try not to do it here, but I can't promise! Though I'll make a big effort. Enjoy, and review, please!

**P.S: **the lines spoken in both nightmares are from my poems, so no, I did not steal them. The reason both nightmares are different is because Anna is growing older – discovering her own fears, becoming her own person. Granted, it is not as long or as detailed as Mikoto's, but I hope it's to your satisfaction.

_**All characters belong to GoRa/GoHands unless I say otherwise.**_

Thank you to those of you that did review. It's really encouraging, and I need it. Thank you so much! You're amazing!

Chapter Two – The Nightmares.

"_I stand alone in this crowded wasteland. Around me is death and darkness, hauntings of greed and envy and lust that consume and indulge on those weak of mind."_

_The words were uttered on a soft breath – the voice undoubtedly feminine, but its tone held sinister stirrings that caused Anna's flesh to cool and shiver as the words rang in her ear. Before her, in a flash of silver, what looked to be a battlefield voided out, stained with crimson. The sky settled in a black fog just along the horizon, casting a looming shadow over the ground. Anna's eyes widened, and her face contorted into an expression of sudden horror as bodies, slashed and hacked into oblivion materialized all around her._

"_It often rains here in downpours that saturate and destroy art and adventures, that soak up sadness and leave behind pools of hate that swell."_

_Anna was moving now, her feet slow and heavy. She crossed over the border into another wasteland, only here, it was a lot more corrupt. The sky was red, red like blood, and crackling with power. Again she was alone. Drops fell from the red sky to splash onto her white skin, and soon she was saturated. Pools of water gathered in the deep crevices in the ground, and she was moved to stare into the closest one. In it, she saw Tatara's face, but it was still and expressionless, his eyes open, but absent of the light of life. _

_And then the water rippled, and his image was lost. _

"_And often there are clouds, black and brooding, that shadow this place and create an effect; one of a twisted anger that flows and seethes with destruction."_

_Forced to look up by a force that she assumed was linked with that soft, deathly voice, Anna was greeted by a terrifying image. Mikoto stood in the distance only there was something not quite right about him. She'd seen him angry once. But this was not even in comparison. _

_His head was bowed, and his Sword of Damocles pulsated with energy in the sky above him. It didn't look shattered, or close to falling, rather it was prospering to Mikoto's anger, in better shape than she'd ever seen it. His aura ripped through the air around him and with a loud silence, it erupted from his form in staggering waves. Screams of anguish and wails of absolute agony from no where were crushed by the power he was emanating. _

_But Anna was untouched by the scathing heat._

"_A bell tolls its deathly tune, its sound resonating in frightening waves, somewhere in the distance. And I know it is telling me, "Come on, darling. It is time to go"."_

_Anna was suddenly petrified. Frozen. Paralyzed. The sudden fear that filled her was suffocating. The voice had changed its soothing, almost lulling tone to a hiss – one that riled a horrid emotion in the depths of Anna's mind, causing her body to tremble and shake, her breaths quickening as she saw Mikoto raise his head and gaze at her with those cold, golden eyes. This time, the scream she heard was her own. _

Anna, whilst entrapped in the fog of sleep, began to stir and her eyelids fluttered as she tried to open them, but to no avail. The nightmare had forcefully taken captive her ability to awaken from the terrifying slumber. Even though she was only dressed in a sheer red nightdress, her skin shone with a slight sheen of sweat. Her body was curled into the crook of Mikoto's, but the king lay on his back, one arm thrown over his eyes while the other held Anna close.

"_This rocky shore has been the start, and always the end. The waves lap gently at my feet lulling a soft song. But out there, in the mist-ridden distance, I see the turmoil they curl."_

_Mikoto could see the beach unfold in front of him, the image rippling as it struggled to form. Yet as he stood there, his feet sunk slightly in the sand. _

"_The grey skies are mocking, and they bring the threat of rain. The air is thick with anticipation yet those clouds, they simply laugh and put on hold their reason."_

_From all around him that voice echoed into the vast landscape, a song being sang into his ear in low notes, almost like a lullaby. Only it was dark, what the voice was saying, and in sinister tones it spoke to him, wrenching the beast from inside of him, causing it to awaken. Closing his eyes, he could see the lion stumble to standing on all fours. It's muzzle was vibrating with a silent growl, and his golden eyes were blazing little slits above his elongated snout. _

_Opening his eyes, his sense of self flooded back to his body and drowned the beast within him, causing the Red King to do a double-take. _

"_The cliffs behind me stand tall, shrouded in shadows. I know they think of collapsing, I know they smirk. Their structure is crumbling, broken rocks lay weeping at their feet."_

_It was like he was standing in the little niche of a cliff, where a small beach had formed. Glancing up, he noticed how the cliffs were eroded and completely rugged – close to collapsing at any given moment. But instead of the soft grey colour rocks were supposed to have (_depending on what type they were, of course_), these cliffs were black. Unfathomable, shadowy black. Even the shattered remnants, the broken off nooks and jutting pieces that lay scattered among the beach to make a stair upwards he wouldn't like to climb, were the same colour. _

"_Footprints are stamped into the sand, sad and alone. There is not one pair but two, distanced with destruction. And I see her there, a vacant expression set in her monochrome eyes."_

_It was like something had grabbed his chin, forced his head up and turned his body. Now he faced the beach, the distressed, flailing waves of the miserable sea. A cool, chilling breath ghosted over his bare toes, causing a shiver to run up along his spine. Wait, bare? Mikoto's eyes were cast to his feet, and he was almost shocked to see he wore no boots. Nothing. The foam was clinging to the turned-up legs of his jeans as the swash came in to sweep over his feet._

_And his eyes trailed after the footprints the voice had distinguished in its lyrical tone. Indeed there were two sets of footprints, starting off side-by-side from a little way back, but as they surpassed Mikoto's form, he watched as they turned away from each other, like the arms of a 'Y'. The prints furthest away from him, larger in size, continued down the length of the small beach, but the smaller set halted – and there stood a young girl._

_Mikoto's breath hitched in his throat at the sight of the Little Princess. _

"_Her cries are heart-wrenching, and I watch as her silvery locks are ripped by the wind, dragged out by the mist. She stands alone now with only her voice. She is loud, she is sad."_

_Anna's tiny form stood at the water's edge, her face aghast and ridden with sorrow. Her eyes that always shone so brightly were absent of their crimson glow, and were indeed monochromatic. The tendrils of hair that were being carried along in sync with the sea's spray snapped around her ferociously as though reprimanding her from moving. _

_But those screams. Those heartbreaking, anguished cries of utter agony resonated and thundered through the air, snaking into his ears and rattling his brain. Those screams... And then the dawning realization of something he had always feared would happen finally sunk in – Anna was totally and utterly alone. _

_This darling little child who never spoke a word out of place, was a light in their darkness and was constantly swarmed by Homra's members, loved by all, was miserable. And she bottled it all up._

"_Her body is adrift, the ice-cold water snatching at her hips. She frowns, as though she's forgotten something. I cannot move. I am bound, entranced by this sight. I _do not_ move."_

_Mikoto wanted to lift his feet and run to her, to grab her up and hug her until the world fell away and it was just the two of them. He wanted to hold her fragile body in his arms and never let her go for fear she'd be targeted by life's cruel wrath. But he couldn't – she was already suffering, and his body felt as though it was filled with lead. The dream was preventing him from doing anything. _

_Mikoto's tortured eyes followed Anna's figure as it drifted into the water, the waves crashing constantly against her. But she was not phased, and kept going. Her dress was soaked and clung to her, yet still, she plunged on._

_This isn't right! He wanted to scream at her, roar at her, tell her this wasn't the way! _It's only a dream, _snapped his inner self, but Mikoto himself knew it was something more. Despite it being in his mind, Anna's dreams reflected on him, too. _

_But they were dreams. This was a nightmare, and he was unsure from whose mind it was conjured._

"_Her arms and torso are slowly, slowly, being engulfed by the wicked waves. She does not care. Her cries are louder, shriller, resonating through the wet atmosphere."_

_It was as though the Manipulator of this dream was mocking him. He couldn't raise his hands to block his ears, no; he was forced to endure the frightening sounds his little Princess made, simply because in reality she was silenced. _

_He could face his Sword of Damocles falling, absorb the worst of Munakata's blows, be locked up for eternity and stay sane if that's what it took to not have to listen to this. Those seemed less frightening. Anna's wails were only terrifying because he'd never heard such sounds. They were filled with a torment he had no comparison for, and that was truly scary. A victim that had fallen prey to his power had never made such a sound – not in the face of death. And here was the Princess, looking death in the eye; accepting it._

"_I can see the tears, crystal as they form, cling to her lashes, salty as the sea. The grey clouds are alight with laughter, and they begin to torrent. Their tears, as sad as she, pour to earth with an immediate haste."_

_Anna's torso was no longer visible. The sea was calmer at her depth, but there was the threat of waves further out, curling the grey liquid. If he had the choice, Mikoto would have dropped to his knees and howled for the loss he had not yet experienced. But its fate was inevitable. She was not going to turn back now, not for fame nor glory._

"_Suddenly, she is neck-deep. She is no longer wailing – she simply stands there. The water, black and haunting, has dimmed her lustre-fueled hair and drowned her breaths. She is silent."_

_No. No, this couldn't be happening. Mikoto watched, helpless and paralyzed, as his sweet Anna had pushed past her limit. The top of her head was barely visible, its silver surface barely bobbing above the darkened waters. Her hat had come loose and floated and twirled in the water, coming to wash up on the sandy shore. Mikoto couldn't have done anything._

"_And then I close my eyes and I feel her heart stop. I feel it break, crack, rip. The water floods and I am lost. A soft hum sounds in my ear, and I let go."_

_The soft voice that had been narrating Mikoto's worst observation slowly faded out of his ear, and he was left with the loud silence of the beach muttering at work. The spray of the water splattered onto his face and hands and feet but he could barely feel it._

_And the world around him shattered into oblivion, a blur of mirror-reflectant shards and drops of crystalline water. _

Mikoto's eyes shot open, momentarily in panic as the shadows in the dark room rushed to cloud his vision. His chest was rising and falling fast, a sheen of perspiration gathering above his brow as his heart thumped like a rabbit in his throat. His eyes didn't adjust quick enough, and if not for the lack of energy, he would have struggled. But he lay there, frozen in terror, as his sight cleared a little, his pupils huge – rimmed by a line of gold.

A small shift of the bed was the only thing that broke him from his trance.

Feeling flooded his body, and his nerves were over-sensitized. There was a body _beneath_ him, stilled but not so silent. The soft sound of even, sleepy breaths contorted the alarm bells flustering wildly in his ear, and he was suddenly aware.

Anna's form was huddled beneath him, and he lay partially on top of her. Her small arms were hunched up against her own chest, tiny fingers knotted tightly into the fabric of his tank top. Her legs were twined between his – a thigh pressed in between both of the King's. But his arms were wrapped tightly around this porcelain doll, holding its fragility close; reluctant to let it go.

What an awkward position.

But it relaxed him. It drained the tension from his body, and his muscles loosened out. His mind, running a mile per second, dimmed its red haze. The fury, terror and anxiety was still bubbling in his stomach though, churning his thoughts simultaneously. He had to reassure himself that Anna was still there, eyes scanning over her face every few seconds. Yes, that was her. Yes, she was breathing.

The morning light had yet to make an appearance, which led Mikoto to believe it was still late into the night. There was silence from downstairs. No light came from a thin line beneath the door, which meant Izumo had left and locked up – more than likely hours ago.

And yet he did not want to sleep. He couldn't. The nightmare had completely and utterly traumatized him and he didn't wish to experience another like it.

Yet still, despite his stubborn demeanour, the King fell into the void of sleep moments later.

Only this time, he wasn't burdened by loss. Nothing but sweet darkness.

Upon the rising of the sun, Anna was always awake. But she often stayed in bed, basking in the warmth of Mikoto, admiring his pretty red for a few hours. It was like ritual. But as soon as Anna was pulled from her slumber by the rays of this morn reflecting on the insides of her eyelids, her eyes went directly to Mikoto's face – only this time, it was a little closer than she was used to.

She glanced down to their position, and was only bemused. Her skin was hot and flushed because it felt as though he was smothering her this time. Her lungs were finding it difficult to keep themselves regulated, too, mainly because he was holding her so tightly.

Bother.

In attempt to break them apart slightly, Anna began to squirm and wriggle beneath the King's body. It wasn't surprising he was so heavy, but she should have been able to wriggle away. Only every time she moved, his arms would wind tighter. She began to move her legs about, almost distressed to find one of hers wedged between her King's. She brought her leg up slowly, her thigh pressing higher, when Mikoto grunted suddenly, his body hunching.

But he didn't wake up. How could someone possibly stay awake through someone moving relentlessly beneath them? It was beyond her comprehension, but his arms did loosen – and he released her altogether, flopping onto his other side.

Anna sat up, still riddled with the fog of sleep, her eyes blurry and sensitive to the soft golden glow invading the room. And it was then she took the time to reflect upon her dream, what had happened, and everything she took from its essence. It had truly frightened her, but why? Its reasoning was unclear and the little girl sighed from pure exasperation. The nightmares were coming frequently, their effects more intense each time.

They were horrible but she could do nothing to prevent them.

Just then, the door opened, and Izumo's blonde head poked into the room. "Oh, Anna, you're awake," said the bartender, a smile grazing his lips slightly. "Would you like some breakfast?"

A nod of her head sent Izumo away whilst she gathered herself up and withdrew her body from the bed's soft embrace. She crossed the room to the door, and with her hand on the knob, she turned back to glance at Mikoto. If he was really awake, he was doing a good job on not showing it. Anna suddenly got a flash of one of the terrifying images she'd seen last night – the Sword of Damocles hovering, smaller in size now, above the Red King's head, pulsating with destruction.

Anna left the room in a hurry.

The morning passed in a blur. She dressed, combed out her hair, and went for breakfast. It was a simple meal of eggs and bacon with a slice of toast, all of which she ate over a slower pace. Izumo made conversation scarce, reading the news paper. Whether he had any real interest or not wasn't obvious at all. After she had eaten, Izumo cleared away her plate.

"Kosuke, no! Don't!"

"What? It's fine."

The familiar voices of two of her clansmen, Fujishima and Eric, came wafting into the bar along with the sound of the door being opened and closed moments later. Both figures emerged into the main body of the bar – Eric with a hesitant and foreboding expression, and Fujishima with a cardboard box held in his arms. From her seat, Anna could hear the quiet mewls of kittens, and was over to the box in a shot.

"Morning, Anna! You're up early," said Eric in amusement, reaching down to ruffle her hair. She managed a slight smile at him, but was only interested in the contents of the box. Sensing that, Eric sauntered to take a seat at the bar. "Oi, when Izumo gives you Hell, I promise I'll say I told you so."

"Tch, okay," said Kosuke with a passive expression, before going towards the couches and plopping down onto one of the large seats. Anna followed in close pursuit, eager to see what kind of animals made the scrawny yowls. "Hi, Princess. I thought you'd like to see these!"

And Fujishima very gently turned the box on its side beside him, and he slipped onto the floor to be seated with Anna, and pried open the flaps. Three pairs of wide blue eyes (kittens usually have blue eyes for the first two to three weeks after birth) came to peer at the faces held close to the box, the mewling getting slightly louder.

One by one, the kittens came into the light more clearly, and a soft gasp was heard from Anna.

Three kittens, each a different colour. The first was a plump little thing with soft ginger fur, its markings tiger-like and bright. The second kitten, tailgating the first, was not as plump but healthy looking nonetheless was a completely white one, its fur silken in the light. It was the one meowing loudest.

And last, but certainly not least, was a wiry kitten, its feline eyes gazing intently to Anna. Its eyes were wide and – oh. They weren't blue at all. Their depths were a deep, burning amber, flecked with lighter and darker shades, pupils dilated into large ovals. The kitten's fur looked to be fluffy, and marked in black and white. Four black socks on its tiny, tiny paws. Its ears were pricked forward intently, but it did not meow at her.

"I found them on my way here. They were too young to leave behind, and it's been a while since we've seen kittens, isn't it?"

Despite wanting to, Anna never got the chance to answer.

"No!" said a whining Izumo, barreling over. "Fujishima-san, why must you always bring them here? Why? They're only going to be a nuisance!"

Kosuke, forever bemused at Izumo's reaction to the constant yet always temporary pets, simply grinned. "They won't be here long. Don't worry, Izumo! Look at how cute they are!"

Anna no longer heeded either of them, her gaze completely captivated by the little amber-eyed kitten. Its head tilted at her intently. She reached out slowly with one hand, and it allowed her to stroke her fingers along his tiny head, curling her nails to scratch lightly at the back of his ears. His body began to vibrate delicately beneath her fingertips, and he purred very lightly.

"Dante," said Anna quietly.

All the bickering behind her paused, and she turned her head. Anna's wide, crimson-tinted eyes fell upon the two males behind her, the innocence of her expression disarming. "Dante?" repeated Kosuke, baffled. Anna nodded, turning back to the kitten who was already anticipating her gentle scratching. "His name is Dante."

"Don't name it! No! Bad idea! You'll get attached!"

"It's just a _name_, Izumo-san!"

Mikoto's eyelids fluttered open to the elevated stress patterns in Izumo's loud voice. The King's gaze wavered as the growing light came to assault his vision, an arm coming up and over his eyes. Glancing to a clock on the wall that no longer ticked, he noted the time. Ten a.m. Not the earliest he'd ever been awake, but not the latest, either.

It was a struggle to leave the bed and go to the bathroom, stripping off his shirt whilst making the journey. Yet courtesy of his ever-observing gaze, his eyes caught on a glinting piece of material strewn over an abandoned chair by the bathroom's door. Anna's hat.

Oh, the paralysis hit him like a freight train. The bone-chilling wind, those inscrutable cliffs, the waves... Anna's silvery hair being torn on torrents of water to splay out around her in a fashion that was only ever seen in those cliche sea-side films. A shiver tickled its long, ghostly fingers up along his spine and Mikoto shook violently for a moment.

That dream was so realistic that it had grabbed the framed edges of what he knew as reality and was shaking the picture, shaking what was real to him. Shaking the loss and grief inside of him that was all bottled up under a label with Tatara Totsuka written profoundly on it. A loud bang and a wail of utter disdain rang in his ears like a war alarm, and it shook him from his tumbling fall into the pits of confusion. The doorknob beneath his fingertips was cold, but it was real.

The grasp he formed on it turned his knuckles white.

The shower's water was warm and it enclosed him in a hot, steamy curtain that shrouded him from the world he would have to soon deal with. The soft falling water, that was nothing like the sea in his dream, encased him in a reality that was bearable. It knocked all of the bad in him aside, replacing it with reassurance and a warm, friendly hug. The scent of his shampoo made it even better.

Dressing proved to be a tedious task. With his boxer shorts on, he stood in front of his wardrobe with an almost strained expression. Mikoto's hard, golden stare was burning moth-holes into every article of clothing laying in a heap on the closet's floor. The hangers clung to the rail, lonely and abandoned.

Kicking and shuffling through the pile, he couldn't find anything clean. The problems of not having a wife was exactly this – though, Izumo was a fair enough substitute. At least he cooked. Laundry was probably open to experimentation, but that was a conversation for some other time Mikoto assumed. Finally, from the depths of his wardrobe, he pulled out a plain black pair of jeans and a white tank top. Mikoto wasn't really one for layers, but he did manage to find a work-shirt, too, and shrugged it on.

Adorning himself with his bracelets, belt, loop-chain and necklace, he left the room. His hair was damp and flat, and it would take a while for him to fix it later. But he wasn't bothered with that now – food was his main priority. Only, when he descended the stairs, it would have been a lie to say he wasn't even slightly amused.

Anna stood there, holding a kitten in her arms, glaring at an arguing Fujishima and Izumo. The kitten clung to her like a child, and it was almost alarming how its eyes turned on the Red King in an instant, a quiet mewl coming from its tiny snout. Following its gaze after being alerted, Anna's soft grey-red hues set on him, and she came towards him – almost scuttling. When she reached him, she stood primly in front of her King, and raised the kitten up so Mikoto could see him more clearly.

"Mikoto-san, can we keep him?"

Mikoto had never been fond of cats. In fact, after a few mishaps in the past, he despised the felines. But if cats naturally disliked him, why hadn't this one raised its hackles yet? Hissed at him? Scratched little Anna's hands and pounced at him? Mikoto could not help but glower with hatred into the large amber eyes that stared directly into his. But a tiny, obscure voice that chimmed in when he was forgetful spoke now, reminding him it was the seventh of December.

Anna's birthday was _tomorrow._

As wise as it would have been to say no, that the cat had to go, Mikoto found himself entranced in the little Princess' face, her eyes wide and her lips almost pouted. A soft blush, as delicate as rose petals heated in her cheeks, creating a rosy kind of set to the girl's face, and he was swept away in Anna's unintended charm. He groaned, a harsh sound, and ran a hand through his hair.

"Fine."

**A/N: **I am incredibly sorry. This update has come inexcusably slow, and I'm SORRY! Trust me, if I could sit at home for two days with plenty of caffeine and no disruptions, I'm sure this would have been up sooner! But sadly, I have a life to live, and it just so happens that as the weather gets hotter, I'm more distracted.

Plus, I kind of ran out of ideas for this chapter. The nightmares! Ah, yes. They were all I had planned, so the rest of this chapter is kind of... Wishy-washy. But I promise, for chapter three, everything's set (I wrote the entire chapter out beforehand! ALL OF IT! Probably should have considered chapter two, first... But... Ideas are fleeting, bothersome little things. Gotta catch 'em while they're there). And, if there are any typos, I apologize. I'm editing this at 4 a.m! Probably not my best idea, but oh well.

_And again, I'm sorry. But also, a big shout out to the readers and reviewers! Glad you liked it! And here you go. Hopefully, chapter three will be up quicker. Much love!_


	3. Torture Me

**Author's Note: **I'm a bad person. How long has it taken for this update to come? Gee, I suck. But hopefully this chapter will not. And to those of you that have reviewed / favourited / alerted, thank you very much!

_**All characters belong to GoRa/GoHands unless I say otherwise.**_

Chapter Three – Torture Me.

Already the morning had started with a blast.

Mikoto sat sprawled out on the sofa with his breakfast plate on his lap and a very content Anna curled up next to him. The kitten, who was now sleeping in the crook of Anna's arms, hadn't caused a problem yet, though the same could not be said for the other two. The little ginger one had already clawed its way through a part of the rug, fraying the material, which Izumo had freaked about, and the white one was apparently deaf and had already peed on the floor from being frightened by clumsy footing.

"Izumo-san, your luck with animals is terrible," stated a grinning Eric, chewing happily on a bacon omlete. He bumped fists with Fujishima, who had nearly snorted milk from his nose.

"My poor bar! They'll ruin it!" Izumo cried, and Mikoto could sense the blonde-haired man would be bald soon.

Anna sniffed daintily, obviously showing her distaste for Izumo's behaviour. Anna's love for animals, big and small, ran deep and to treat them with such disrespect sickened her. Of course Izumo did not hate animals, he just didn't like them in his bar – which isn't really where they belong, and all of Homra's members knew this. They just 'forgot' this rule every so often.

Did Mikoto blame them? He couldn't be bothered, but since he'd allowed Anna to keep the scrawny little feline, Izumo would just have to get over himself. Eventually.

"Yo Anna, how about I take you to town? We can get Dante some stuff, like those annoying little toys with bells and a bed and food. Sound good?" suggested Fujishima, and Anna's face lit up. She nodded without a spoken word, and climbed up from her seat, carefully placing Dante down on the floor with his brothers. He looked startled as he was roused from sleep, but jumped the short distance from her arms anyway, tumbling over the ginger one. The plump little orange blur mewed in protest, but Anna quickly gathered herself up, and went to get her coat.

Izumo flashed Mikoto a quick look. Mikoto shrugged.

"Fujishima," said Mikoto, his first real acknowledgement of anyone that morning. Kosuke looked up and towards the King immediately, and tilted his head. "Keep an eye on her at all times." Mikoto's drawling voice was laced with a serious note, and even though Fujishima was ignorant as to why the King had made such a request – as if he'd ever lose the princess – he nodded, and saluted Mikoto.

Anna returned to Fujishima's aside, dressed in a long black coat with ruffles on the sleeves. The white collar of her dress poked out from beneath the jacket, which Izumo fixed before patting Anna on the head, and nodded. "Cools. See ya' later!" said Fujishima, and he led the way to the door, trailed by Eric and Anna, and then they were gone.

Hours passed, and if Mikoto had noticed the members had not come back yet, he didn't show signs of it. Izumo had left about an hour ago, too, which left him all alone. He busied himself with watching pointless TV shows, his brain slowly working to process the idiots acting on screen.

As the bar's doors opened and a gust of cold, winter wind passed through into the warmth of the lounge, Mikoto barely looked towards the entrance. A snow-coated, chattering Kamamoto and Yata bustled into the bar, groaning and moaning about the cold weather which wasn't outrageous, really. It _was_ cold.

"Yo! Mikoto-san!" called Yata's prudish teenage voice, and he stripped off his coat and dropped his board by the door before shaking off the snow and coming to join Mikoto in the foyer. He dropped onto one of the couches, groaning with joy at the comfort of the sofa's surface. Kamamoto joined them moments later, his teeth chattering.

"Where is everyone?"

"Out," replied Mikoto, watching a black-haired teen smash a vase angrily on the screen, all because her mother wouldn't allow her to go out that evening. Typical.

"Where?" pipped Yata.

"Anna, Fujishima and Surt are shopping. Kusanagi's gone to a meeting."

Kamamoto smiled at the King, before dropping to sit by Yata. When he was watching TV, he was far less threatening, and a lot more informative. Mainly because his brain was so melted from the stupidity on screen, he tended to give them more info than he normally would. Which was nice for a change.

The show ended minutes later, and Mikoto sighed, running a hand through his glimmering hair. His eyes glanced to the end of the couch, where the three kittens were curled in against each other, sleeping soundly. The fat ginger one was snoring, but it was hardly audible.

"Whoa, kittens!" exclaimed Yata, following Mikoto's gaze. The teen jumped up from his seat and practically flung himself to the end of the opposite couch, startling the kittens awake. Immediately, the began to mewl quietly, from confusion mostly, as Yata's fingers prodded and ruffled them. "Fujishima's?" asked Kamamoto.

"The black and white ball is Anna's."

Two pairs of questioning, surprised eyes turned on the King at that moment, and he rose a slender brow. Why were they looking at him like that? The silent question hung in the air, and Yata with a slack jaw was the one to answer. "But... Mikoto-san, y-you hate cats," Yata stuttered out with a tremendous effort, and Kamamoto nodded in agreement. Mikoto simply shrugged. "It's part of her birthday gift." That shut them up, and Mikoto's head turned again to watch yet another episode of teenage drama.

Another good half-an-hour passed before Mikoto began to worry. They'd left hours ago. _Hours. _It did not take nearly ten hours to buy some cat toys, and he highly doubted Anna would want to stay shopping for an entire day. And it was getting cold, surely she'd want to come home by now, wouldn't she? But even though he was becoming increasingly frustrated with every tick of the clock's hand to signal another minute Anna spent away from Homra, he did not make any notion to locate the missing trio.

Yata noticed the King's silent aggitation, and took his cell out of his pocket, unasked and not even notified.

"Yo, Fujishi – whoa!" the phone dropped from Yata's ear as the teen jerked backwards as though in pain, and Mikoto heard anguished cries and wails burst from the phone's distorting speaker. Alerted by the sudden movement, Kamamota stirred from his light slumber almost instantaneously just as Yata dived back to grab up the phone.

"Where are you?" Yata shouted, just as Mikoto stood up. Already the King's red aura was flaring with anger, and impatience. He could hear the strangled voice of Kosuke on the other line of the phone, and it sounded like a fight was breaking out.

"Briar...? Oh, yeah!"

More crackling on the line.

"Get your ass into action man, hold 'em off, we're coming."

Mikoto's burning amber gaze bore fiery holes into Yata's thin form, and the teen looked up, to Kamamoto first, then to Mikoto. "They're on Briar road. Held captive by a few thugs."

"Anna," demanded the King, and his snarl was animalistic.

"She's there."

Mikoto did not saunter, he marched. Each step pounded against the sidewalk, and his fury crackled around him like a red, angry sheath. Its heat was so severe that when a delicate snowflake brushed against its searing surface, it sizzled and melted. Mikoto could barely hear the chatter Yata and Kamamoto were babbling at him over the roar of pounding blood in his ears.

_Those moronic children. How dare they put Anna in danger. I'll kill them. _

Of course he did not mean his fellow clanmates – he would never once doubt their intelligence, or their strength, or courage. They were good men, and strong ones at that. But even the best of people got ambushed, and there was no way to stop it. But those thugs, he did not care who they were, nor did he care for their connections – he would incinerate them. They would die by his hands, and if they had so much as touched his precious Princess, he would watch them suffer with joy in his eyes.

"Mikoto-san, wait! We don't know how many there are!"

Yata's perilous cry wasn't even heard by the hot-headed man at that moment, and that's what frightened Yata most. Mikoto was not Mikoto when like this – he was the Red King, and everything his reputation portrayed him as; violent, hot-headed, short-tempered, chaos personified. If it had just been Eric and Fujishima that had been captured, Mikoto would saunter into the thugs' hideout, and injure each and every one of them severely.

But Anna was there. Anna was in trouble. And sweet little Anna, whose body was everything a creepy man desired, was in danger. And because of Anna, that meant none of those thugs would live to tell the tale of how they saw the Red King.

"Mikoto, your Sword of Damocles," panted the teen, attempting to keep up to his boss on his skateboard. "What about it?" demanded the King, and Mikoto's voice was so full of something Yata could not compare it with, his throat tightened and he bit his tongue. Falling back beside Kamamoto, Yata was silent.

Minutes later, the trio with a brooding atmosphere of violence surrounding them, turned the corner onto Briar road. There was nothing special to this particular part of town. It was residential, branching off into little different sections of the entire estate, but most of the houses were abandoned.

Those that were not were rented to criminals, or had been inhabited by street rats needing shelter had shattered or boarded up windows, broken-down doors and dirty, crumbling walls. Most of the gardens were waist-high with weeds, and the chirping squeaks of mice and rats could be heard, shuffling around in the jungles they were caught in.

Mikoto did not hesitate – the muffled sounds of conflict were brewing from the house projecting light onto the dirty, littered street, and it was only a little down the street.

"Mikoto-san, what... If Anna's not there?" asked Kamamoto, and the man immediately winced, flinching away as Mikoto spun on his heel, and his eyes flashed a dangerous shade of gold. He did not reply, rather turned again, and kept on walking, the red licking flames reaching out from the King's lean form, hissing and snatching at anything flamable.

How long had she been lying there for?

Anna's naked figure, trembling from the cold and terror, had been tied to a bedpost, and she'd been fondled and groped, then there was shouting, and the door of the tiny, musty bedroom had been closed and she was alone again.

Only there were monsters in the dark. She could hear them. In the looming, creeping shadows that threatened to swallow her up, there were things that moved. No matter how still she lay, how quietly she breathed, the sounds that shook her to the very core did not cease. The sweaty hands that had been laid upon her pale skin minutes, hours before, still burned their brands on her, and she desperately wanted to bathe.

Even though she was at the tender age of eleven and did not understand much of men and how their brains worked, she understood that what had been done to her wasn't right. So she lay there, shivering with her tear-stained face buried against the old, blood spattered bed sheets.

The only article of clothing protecting her dignity were her white stockings, and one had fallen down to her knee. Her hair, she could feel, was a mess and knotted something terrible. The bad men had done away with her dress. The gag in her mouth had long ago soaked up the saliva, leaving her throat dry and sore. She couldn't see through the dark, leaving her blind to her surroundings, and frightened.

"_I'm gonna enjoy this."_

_The man's chapped, puffy lips stretched into a smile across his sweat-slick face, and Anna whimpered, her grey eyes wide in fear. With one hand, he blocked her vision, and used to other to lead her down the hallway. _

_She stumbled after him, stupid and blind, and as the wood beneath her feet turned to carpet, she was thrown away. Her feet caught in themselves, and she was on the ground, dazed and breathless. She heard a door close, and she searched the dark for light._

_But there was none. _

_Her body was then hauled up and shoved roughly down onto the bed. Her hat was ripped from her silvery locks, and she yelped as her dress was being torn at. She lashed out with her foot, and her button-over shoe came loose, falling off to tumble away onto the floor. _

_Her kick had missed, and then her dress was ripped from her body, and Anna yelped. Her underwear soon followed, and with what she assumed was a rope, her wrists were bound together._

_Her arms were wrenched up, and she could feel the rope straining as the man tied it to the headboard of the cast-iron bed. Then his hands wandered – rubbing over her barely developed assests, ghosting along her stomach and then down further. "No!" she cried, though he did not heed, and she lay there thrashing violently as this man attempted to touch her._

_She knew it was wrong, and she didn't want it. But she couldn't stop him. _

_Her leg flew up, and her foot collided with something – his jaw? Must have been, because he let out a shriek of agony, and cursed, before delivering a slap to her face. She gasped and whimpered as the coppery taste of blood flooded her mouth. _

"_You little bitch!" growled the man who was assaulting her, and her neck was caught in his iron grip. Her breathing shuddered and stopped, and the erratic thumping in her chest was violent in her ribcage, her heart threathing to burst. _

_Another slap, and Anna's cheek flared in heat and pain. Her hair was bunched in his other hand, and he wrenched her head to the side, and she screamed. The scream was loud, like the wail of a cat and the man's grip loosened. From downstairs, there was a roar, and a loud crash, followed by more angered shouts. _

_The man cursed again beneath his breath, and let Anna's hair go in a violent gesture. "I'll be back." _

Mikoto's flaming aura shot like a bullet from his body, and the door barracading their entry shrieked beneath his power, before the hinges melted and the wood burst into flames, shards of it flying everywhere. The airborne pieces crashed with his aura and combusted, the ash flitting away on a breath of air. The smoke surrounded them as the three entered the building, a pure sight of havoc.

Mikoto was a bomb, and he was ticking.

Two burly men already came thundering blindly forward, and the King anticipated their brutal attack. A fist came aiming for the left side of his face, which he dodged without effort, and a wooden plank came for his thigh. He tightened the muscles in his leg, and brought up his knee in a powerful thrust and as the wood connected with his thigh, it split and cracked beneath the contact.

The man wielding it cried from confusion, and his face met Yata's fist in a furious punch. There were nearly thirty of those thugs in total, and Mikoto spotted Fujishima and Eric over by the staircase, two to each of them. "Mikoto-san!" yelled Fujishima, his bloodied and bruised face lighting up.

Eric lunged forward, striking his attacker with a low jab, his hand connecting with the man's abdomen. The thug's knees buckled, and he went down with a breathless shout. Mikoto walked past them, hands shoved into his pockets. He interpretted no attack as he went to the stairs, his power pulsating around him like a barrier.

He hardly noticed the cries of joy from his clansmen as they rushed into the fight with glee. Step by step, he climbed the stair, and the old, rotting wood creaked beneath his heavy boots.

The silent approach apparently didn't go unnoticed. A rather fat man, but well muscled, dressed in black with a heavy gold chain hanging from his neck was standing braced against one of the bedroom doors. Mikoto stared at him as he stood on the landing, his eyes flickering to the door.

Anna.

He didn't even need to see her – her scent and fear overpowered the King's senses a moment, and he knew that indeed was his darling little princess in that room.

"Move," said Mikoto quietly, and the man bristled.

"D'you know who I am, kid?" demanded the head Yakuza.

Mikoto's impassive expression belatedly replied. "I'm Kurono Miki! And you, my friend, have stumbled upon a very dangerous situation," proclaimed the man.

"That's a girl's name," was Mikoto's reply, "and I think you should move from that door."

"No way. This lil' girl is like a dream come true. A strain, and such a pretty one at that? You hardly think I'm gonna let her go. And to such scum like you!"

Mikoto's beast roared, and stood onto its hind legs. _How dare he. _The aura around Mikoto suddenly crackled, and electric impulses sparked through his pretty red. There was a deep rumbling sound from Mikoto's chest, and the power was suddenly unleashed. In silent waves of hot fury, his aura rushed at the thug, and the screams that followed were no match for what Mikoto wanted him to feel. _Hotter, _thought the King, and the flames burned brighter.

Completely disregarding the mangled, disintegrating corpse, Mikoto sauntered to the door, and opened it, ignoring the unfathomable stink of burning hair and flesh. The room was dark, and there was a strong musky scent of something unmistakably feminine, mingled with the smell of sweat and fear.

Anna's breaths were uncoordinated and jumpy, Mikoto could hear, and he heard her shuffle and shift on the bed. He felt around on the wall for the lightswitch, and as luminous lemon light filtered through the dark, he saw a sight that both sickened and frightened him.

Anna's tiny form lay stretched on the bed, her hands tied high above her head. Her silvery-white hair was matted and wild, and her mouth was bound in a gag. Acres of pale, sweet skin was revealed, and his eyes traveled over every inch of her exposed body. To the bare curves of her waist, along the defined lines of her hips... And to the white stockings she was so fond of, one bunched at her knee.

And it was so wrong.

She was only a baby, not meant for a scenario so cruel as this. Yet still, his beast growled in pleasure. _Mine, _it snarled with a gutteral sound. _No one elses. She is _mine. And despite the truth, it pained Mikoto to see the red marks of handprints that were not his marring the pale of her chest, stomach and thighs.

The King's golden eyes averted themselves as he made his way towards the bed, and began to untie Anna's bindings. As soon as her hands wriggled free of the rope, she leaped up, wrapped her hands around his neck, and fell back.

Mikoto could not help but fall to the bed with her, and lay there with her, feeling her body shudder as she sobbed. They weren't loud, dramatic cries, but desperate, scared sobs that racked her whole body. And her scent... It teased his nose, and awoke every slumbering fantasy to life in his brain. But he lay there, controlled as he held her to him, sitting up and pulling her fragile little body onto his lap.

Instead of taking advantage of the moment to chastise her, he shrugged off his coat, and held it out to her. "Put your arms out," he muttered, and the leashed fury in his voice made Anna's eyes widen in fear. Her arms sprung to life, and quickly, he slid the jacket on. If she were standing, its hem would fall to her knees. He stood, and she slithered from his lap.

Anna's knees suddenly buckled beneath her own slight weight, and his grip went to her arm, firm and supportive. She let out a little frustrated cry and hung her head.

_That sound. _

The shore scenery crashed around him, smacking his reality away, and the bitter taste of seawater invaded his mouth, his eyes widening. No, please. He collapsed to his knees, hands on Anna's shoulders as the sea crashed angrily about them in transparent waves of choking, belligerent black.

"M-Mikoto?" stuttered the Princess, but he barely heard her over the sound of his own loud silence. His eyes closed, and he kneeled there miserably, as though he'd failed her. God, that vision was haunting his every waking moment. He couldn't... Function. The grief of the loss he had not yet suffered smothered his realistic perspective.

And it was so frightening.

A bang from downstairs dragged Mikoto's flailing form back to reality and he was pulled from the dark waters of his own inner turmoil. He reached down, and pulled Anna's stocking up, before clasping the zip of his coat and zipping it closed, hiding the Princess's naked body.

Standing, he scooped her up like a sack of feathers, and she curled into his chest, arms winding like snakes around his neck. She had stopped crying, and was silent now, but their connection projected all the confusion, terror and loss she was feeling onto him.

"I'm sorry, Anna," he mumbled as the descended the staircase, and he wasn't surprised to see his clansmen sitting triumphantly in a circle of fallen thugs. "We got 'em, boss."

**Author's Note: **I apologize due to the rushed air of this chapter! I wanted to get an update done before I go away for the next few days – though I know it should have come like a month ago. I've come back to the world of anime, and wanted to share with you this little bit of drama I had in mind. So I hope you enjoyed, and if not, this might be edited later on! Thanks for bearing with me!


	4. Denial

**Author's Note: **Despite the intensity of Anna's part played in the last chapter, I think it went well enough. Mikoto's like a momma bear! So cute.

_**All characters belong to GoRa/GoHands unless I say otherwise.**_

**New character introduction: **Miyuki Suoh – Mikoto's younger sister.

Chapter Four – Denial.

_The fire burning in her skin was almost unbearable._

The morning of her birthday had been torturous and too long for her liking.

Anna had simply wished to stay in bed, wrapped in the embrace of her blanket and nightdress. Last night she had slept alone, though Izumo had insisted she slept alongside Mikoto. She couldn't accept – she didn't want to be touched. Even though it meant Mikoto's warm aura would not comfort her, she didn't care. The thought of someone else's flesh touching her own conjured the horrible memory of the fat man's hands grazing her skin and it made her sick to her stomach.

So she delayed getting up for as long as possible.

The bag she had brought home days before – the one containing her birthday dress – lay lonely and abandoned by the door, its laminated surface glinting in the morning's orange-bleached light.

Mikoto probably wanted her to wear it today.

She was another year older, but it was as though she'd aged ten years. The lethargy set deep in her bones was agonizing and Anna was very aware the course it took, causing her eyelids to become heavy and her skin to grow cold.

The soft, faux-fur comforter she slept with did little to console the nightmares she had suffered that night.

No doubt Mikoto had heard her, and he had also probably seen the horrors that burdened her heavy mind. Their link was more of a curse that anything at that particular moment. She wanted to keep her suffering a secret and though Mikoto said nothing, she saw the fear growing in his eyes every day he looked at her. The golden embers she had once loved grew dim and their intensity lessened and she was no longer entranced by them.

"Anna?" came Misaki's tentative voice, followed by the door opening slowly. She grunted and buried herself deeper into the blanket grave she'd made for herself. She lay small and quiet, silent and still, but still Yata entered and closed the door behind him. His presence came nearer, and then his weight shifted the mattress as he sat down.

"Happy birthday, Princess."

"What's so happy about it?" Anna asked innocently, genuinely confused by the 'happy' bit. Why was it they were meant to be happy of growning another year older, decaying until eventually dead? She couldn't fathom it.

"Princess – there's someone here to see you," he said, "She wants to see you very much."

That pried at Anna's curiosity. A woman, here to see her? That was new. Unless it was her aunt, otherwise she would happily stay in bed. Yata's finger poked at her, relentlessly, until she made a crack in her blanket haven. Her silvery hair was all ruffled on one side, sticking up at odd angles, and her grey-red eyes were drooping.

"It isn't your aunt, either."

Oh. _Oh. _Who could it be then? Anna did not know many other women – Izumo's girlfriend that answered to the Blue King, and her aunt who she never wanted to speak with again. There has of course been other women that she'd seen fleetingly, but none she would know to see or care for.

Anna threw back the heavy quilt and untangled her legs from the sheets with the assistance of Misaki. He then held her hand as she slipped from the bed, and she glanced up at him. "Who is it?" she asked quietly, tilting her head.

Part II.

Why did Yata have to be the one to get the Princess up? Of course he cared for her and loved spending time with her, but after last night's incident, would she really be so willing to drag herself from bed and dress, only to slap on a fake smile and act happy for the day? He sincerely doubted it.

But when Miyuki had glanced at him with those pale golden eyes, he couldn't refuse.

At least an hour earlier, Yata had arrived at Homra to find Mikoto still in bed and Izumo chatting to a red-headed woman seated at the bar, sipping on a concoction of drinks in a single tall glass. At first he had expected it to be Seri, but Seri was blonde.

"Yo," called Yata and dropped his board by the door, coming to join them at the bar. One glance towards the woman's profile, and his jaw dropped.

"Yata, meet Miyuki. This is Mikoto's younger sister. She's here to see Anna," said Izumo with a very charming smile. The woman's head turned, and Yata was shocked to see how young she looked. Fiery red locks, brighter than Mikoto's, were tied into a ponytail and her spiky bangs fell around her face in a disarray. Her face was slim with defined cheekbones, burning golden gems where her eyes should be. Long inky lashes batted at him, and her pale pink lips parted.

"Hey," smiled Miyuki, but the smile faltered into a scowl at Yata's speechless form. "Cat got your tongue, eh?"

"That's not it at all! Yata's terrible with girls, and also, none of Homra's members know Mikoto has a sister," pipped Izumo, completely saving Yata's ass. Closing his mouth, he nodded in agreement. He sat on the stool next to Miyuki, and glanced at her again.

She was pretty short, he guessed, a lot shorter than him. Her skin was so pale, too, which enhanced the red of her hair. But her body... Misaki's eyes trailed down and down, to the boots she wore on her feet, and he blushed, looking away.

All Miyuki did was laugh. She had a nice laugh – light and airy, cute.

"Sorry about that. I forgot Big Brother doesn't talk about family."

"We didn't know he had any," Yata finally managed to stutter out.

Izumo chuckled, and turned away to fill himself a glass of water before turning to face them again. "Mikoto's concussed, and Anna is still in bed. She's... Usually up at this time." Izumo's voice trailed off, as did his gaze, to look up at the staircase. He sighed, and ran a hand through his blonde locks.

"Misaki, please go wake her," requested Izumo quietly, "Miyuki won't wait for much longer, will you?"

Mikoto's younger sister simply shrugged. "I don't mind," she said, flicking Yata a quick glance, "But I'd prefer to see her before I'm introduced to anyone else." Her eyes then turned on Yata fully, and her burning amber orbs gazed deeply into Yata's eyes, and he bit his lip. "Y-yeah, but... Who's to say she'll get up for me?"

"She likes you more than the others, and I have to entertain miss Suoh here," explained Izumo. Of course, the blonde-headed man knew full well Yata would rather stay down here with Miyuki, but he was so awkward, and he'd embarrass himself. "Trust me, you'll get her up. Say she has a guest."

Miyuki's eyes stayed trained on him, and Yata completely melted. "Fine."

So he climbed the staircase, drifted past Mikoto's door slowly – there was silence from inside – and continued down to Anna's door, grasping its golden handle firmly in his grip.

Part III.

Anna sat in front of her vanity mirror dresser, combing out her long hair. Yata had sprawled on her unmade bed, staring at the ceiling. She was dressed in her new dress, complete with stockings and button-over platinum shoes.

When the knots were combed out from her hair, she placed the brush down and sighed.

"Need some help?" asked Misaki, and there was something completely off about his voice. Anna nodded, and opened the main drawer of her dresser. Silk gleamed in the light, and encased it, shining brightly.

She untangled a thick black ribbon from the rest of the hair accessories, and held it up.

Yata slid off of her bed, and came to stand behind her. He examined the length of silk she held between fingertips, and frowned. "Ah... You want this in your hair?"

Anna nodded, and Yata took it from her hand which she then laid to rest in her lap. She closed her eyes as he began to work at her hair, pulling strands gently and she heard the thin whisper as he tied to ribbon into her hair. He patted her head, and she opened her eyes. The bow stuck up from the back of her head like two kitten ears.

She looked so pale in comparison, and there were bruises beneath her eyes, as well as a dark purple smudge along her cheekbone. She touched it, and grimaced, practically slamming her hand back into her lap.

That man had hurt her. Who was to say it wouldn't happen again?

"Come on, Princess."

Anna turned on the cushioned bench, and took Yata's hand. His palms were hot and sweaty, though she said nothing. It was nice in a way – almost like Mikoto's, but her King's were always dry.

For every three steps Anna took, Yata took one, and her shoes tapped out a steady rhythm as they descended the stairwell.

Homra's warm lounge opened up, and Anna's eyes pinpointed directly to the feminine figure seated at the bar and she the red hair made her heart flutter. Mikoto? But as the figure turned, she could see it wasn't Mikoto at all, and Anna almost frowned.

"Anna! Hello, darling," said the woman, and her features were so familiar... It was haunting. The pointed nose, the shape of the jaw, the eye and hair colour... A relative of Mikoto's, obviously. But Anna had assumed Mikoto had none.

Whenever she had pried (unintentionally, she said) into Mikoto's thoughts to seek his past, the thoughts and memories labelled 'family' were black and filled with smoke.

Either he had no family, or there was something he didn't want anyone to see.

So if this woman, so obviously alike, was his family, what was it he did not want Anna to know about her?

"Hello," replied Anna daintily, and she was distracted momentarily by a quiet mewl. A scratching sound, like nails tapping upon a wooden floor, approached her and a black and white ball of fur launched itself into the air, aiming towards Anna's arms.

She caught the kitten instinctively, and gazed down into golden eyes. The kitten curled itself into a ball in the crook of Anna's arms, and immediately began purring.

Anna continued her walk to the woman, followed by Yata who surpassed her to hop up onto the stool beside this Mikoto-look-alike.

"You probably do not remember me, because our meeting was so brief, but I am Mikoto's younger sister, Miyuki." The woman slid from her stool to kneel in front of Anna, and her presence... Anna's cold eyes widened. The aura Mikoto always projected enveloped her right there and then, and she could see its red waves of power leak from Miyuki's body.

Only something was not quite right about it.

The power wasn't whole like Mikoto's – it was broken, and dimmer, and was almost like the tendrils leaving Miyuki's form were... Locked. As though she was trying to conceal it. Anna glanced towards Izumo and Yata, and saw in their eyes they could not see what she could. How odd.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss," Anna said quietly. She could not help the caution that proceeded to develop in her mind, barricading any nice impressions she would have gotten from this lady.

She wasn't right.

"Miyuki here has a present for you."

Izumo smiled at Anna, and it was a smile that said _be nice, or else. _As if she would be anything other than polite – nice was a stretch. From the pocket of the long coat Miyuki wore, she pulled a little box out, and opened it. The hinges creaked very quietly, and the blaze of the fire-red gem nestled neatly against a stretch of black satin nearly blinded Anna.

"Happy birthday, Princess." Miyuki seemed genuine with her tone of voice, but Anna knew better than to trust a first impression. There was something off about her eyes – indeed they were the same colour as Mikoto's, maybe brighter, but there was something sinister and wrong in their depths.

So instead, she gazed at the gem. It was a ruby, its many reflecting surfaces gleaming deeply like little licks of fire. "I was going to get your birthstone," said Miyuki, lifting the silver chain from its box, "But turquoise seemed inappropriate. You are after all beneath the Red King."

Anna lifted her hair out of the way as Miyuki placed the shimmering gem around her throat. "Thank you very much. It's really pretty."

The redheaded woman smiled, and simply shrugged, standing up. She stretched, and patted Anna's head, "It's no problem. Take good care of it."

Miyuki then turned to Yata and Izumo, and bowed her head. "I will take my leave now. May I leave a message with you?"

"Sure."

"Tell Mikoto I will be back later, and I must talk seriously with him. If he fails to act rationally with this request, the consequences will be severe," she said, her tone low and very... Grown up. Anna could hear the threatening note lace through Miyuki's voice, and it caused a shiver to tickle her spine.

_Not right._

"Thank you for the drink, Izumo-san," she continued, "And Yata, may I be so bold as to ask you to escort me to my hotel? I'm afraid the way is not so clear for me at the moment, and I can't afford to get lost."

Part IV.

The snow was falling again, coating the city in a soft white blanket. Yata walked alongside Miyuki. The hotel was about half an hour away, but it was a straight enough walk... So why had she wanted an escort?

Hope flew about in his stomach like a thousand little butterflies, and the blush in his cheeks stayed put. Oh, God, she was so pretty – and her voice brushed over him like silk, tingling his nerves to life every time she opened her mouth. She spoke of nothing and everything, and she was so fascinating.

But she was weird, too.

The likeness between Miyuki and the King was definitely there in the features – hair, skin, eyes, even the walk. But their personalities were nothing alike. Mikoto was laid back, relaxed, but short-tempered and incredibly violent. Mikoto radiated a terrifying presence without even meaning to.

That was just him, and Homra liked him that way. Best of all, he was a friend to them. He'd taken all of Homra's members beneath his wing, and cared for them. Like a family.

But Miyuki was different. She was so full of energy, and it was hard to imagine her sitting down for more than ten minutes. Her fascination with the scenery was astounding, and her knowlegde of astrology was incredible. She was so enthusiastic about it. But she was... Distant. Very friendly, but not like she was close with many.

"I'm sorry," she finally said, breaking Yata's comparative observation between her and her brother. "I can't help myself rattling on, I'm like a kid."

"No, no, it's all right. I like hearing you talk," Yata assured her, then tightened his lips, and looked away. Dammit, he was such a pup.

Miyuki giggled, and batted her lashes at him sweetly. God, she was adorable. "Really? Oh, Yata, I think that was nearly a complement!"

Dumbasdumbassdumbassdumbass. The chant was incessant in his head, and he chuckled nervously. He paused, and looked up at the looming building they stood outside. "Well, here you are," he said, gesturing at the hotel, "See ya'."

"Oh, no, wait! Come up for a drink. I'll make sure it'll be worth your while."

Part V.

Miyuki's room was a penthouse suite, and it was huge. The floor was carpeted in soft beige, and the walls were painted a cream colour with a golden border – the skirting boards were warm, too.

A huge King-sized bed was centre in the room, round in shape, with four posters adorned with fluttery gossamer curtains. Miyuki dropped her purse and coat on a chair just inside the door, and went directly to the dresser.

Yata closed the door as Miyuki removed a champagne bottle from the ice-cooler.

She popped the cork, and poured two glasses whilst Yata admired the room. The balcony doors were closed, and he could see the snowflakes gathering on the glass. Miyuki brought over the glasses and handed him one, the overpowering scent of champagne invading his nostrils.

Expensive.

"You sure?" he asked, sniffing it tentively.

Miyuki snorted, raising one slender brow. "Of course. I haven't drugged it, in case you were wondering," she said and there was a note of defence in her voice. To show he meant no harm, he took a huge gulp – then regretted it.

The taste was sharp against his pallet, and he instantly prefered the bitter cider he usually drank.

But it would have been rude to refuse.

Miyuki giggled, and turned on her heel to sit down on the bed, patting the empty space beside her. It seemed innocent enough, so Yata came to sit by her. And that's when her face fell into composure.

"Despite the carefree attitude I may have portrayed during our initial meeting, I am not at all here for laughs and games. Indeed I wanted to wish Anna a happy birthday, but that is not all."

Yata swallowed thickly.

"My brother," she said bitterly, "has been ignorant of our family lately, and you must understand, he has to come home to us."

"No way!" exclaimed Yata without thinking his responce through. "Mikoto is our King, our leader! He can't leave!"

This woman held a hand up to silence him. He scowled, and sat back, biting down on his tongue.

"You did not let me finish. At the end of this month, at the beginning of the new year, the Blue King intends to take Anna away. As you know, they control Strain activity, and Anna has gone too long without the care she needs. Mikoto will not let this happen if he has knowledge of it, so come December twenty-first, he is going to come away with me until the third of January, when Anna has been removed permanently from Homra."

Yata's jaw dropped. A fury so violent surged up inside of him, and he almost cracked the crystal in his hand. How dare she say such a thing? Mikoto could not leave – and Yata would eat his board if Mikoto actually went. "No."

Miyuki's flaming eyes focused intently on him, and he squirmed uncomfortably. "No? I do believe your opinion has no real ground to stand on. Don't you see? I am trying to help."

"No! You're not! Mikoto will not go if he knows Anna is going to be taken into custody by the Blues! He cares for her, and that's something you don't understand! They need each other, like a plant needs water! Dammit!" he roared, infuriated by the pure insolence of this woman.

But before he could blink, Miyuki slammed the glass from his hand, knocking it to the floor, and was on top of him – straddling his waist. She pinned his arms down by his sides, and her eyes were locked onto his. He'd never been in such close contact with a girl before, and the connection made a fire burn in his cheeks.

"Anna's powers are diminishing, because she has not been taught how to use them. Granted the Blues are jackoffs, but they know how to handle the Strains. _And_ Anna is a girl, living with men who are too ignorant to the changes she will have to go through."

"So?"

"So, who's going to explain periods to her? The curves she will develop? The increased interest in men? Or, even women? What a sex-drive is? What lust is? She will experience all of these things, and her attraction to Mikoto will develop, and she'll not only be emotionally attached to him, but sexually as well. It's inevitable. Because of this bond they have, she _will_ love him – and not like a Daddy either."

Miyuki finished, and her expression was strained and desperate, and Yata softened. The anger in him melted away, and become something of confusion and embarrassment.

"Y-you mean... She'll get all... Womanly?"

"She'll grow up. Yes."

Yata's eyes closed, and he felt his brain whirring a mile a minute, attempting to process the information he'd just soaked up. Anna would grow into a woman – and Mikoto wouldn't even get the chance to say goodbye to her. And she'd fall in love with him? Want to have sex with him? That wasn't right. She was a _kid_.

His anguish was bubbling wickedly in his stomach, and he needed to get air. But Miyuki had him pinned. God, what the hell was going to happen? Anna couldn't go! She was Homra's little mascot, and they all loved and cherished her! Did Izumo know?

"What can I do to persuade you?"

Yata was shocked into reality, and his eyes shot straight up to Miyuki's. She was biting tentatively on her lower lip, and her eyes were half-lidded. But her voice... It had taken on a very low tone, one of seduction.

Her eyelashes batted at him, and she lowered herself down. She released his hands, and placed her own on his cheeks as her bust pressed firmly up against his chest. Her scent was almost intoxicating – a deadly mix of vanilla and ginger, and something sweet.

Yata blushed fiercely. "U-uh, no... I mean nothing, it's – I'll – "

Miyuki cut him off with a kiss.

Her lips were warm and tender, and they coaxed Yata's into motion. Her tongue swiped at his lower lip, and he inhaled deeply through his nose, almost groaning in pleasure and shock. His hands grabbed onto her hips as he pushed himself up into a sitting position, holding Miyuki firmly on his lap.

She moaned into his mouth, a soft breathy sound, and her teeth nipped playfully at his tongue as it played with hers. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and she pushed her whole self against him, as though she needed the contact.

Yata panicked then.

She was so close, and so warm, and oh-so attractive.

But with the news she'd just delivered? In such a cruel way?

Yata pushed her off of his lap, and she fell to the bed, a look of bewilderment plastered on her features.

Yata stood, shook himself off and sighed. "I... really hope you won't do this to him. To us."

And with that last statement hanging in the air, he crossed the lavish room. The golden glow followed him all the way to the door, and as he opened it, the hot feel of her lips tingled against his.

**Author's Note: **I've always kinda felt bad for Yata because he was so awkward with girls, so I think he needs a dominant woman to open him up a bit. Miyuki's gonna be great for that!


End file.
